While Master Is Away
by iheartgeekz
Summary: Series of drabbles featuring young Roy and Riza. Some fluffy, some serious. Chapter 6- Home for the Holidays- Roy brings Riza home to Central to meet his family for the holidays.
1. Milestones

Roy takes care of Riza when she hits a milestone while her father is away.

* * *

Roy Mustang sat with his nose in a book. Berthold Hawkeye had taken a train to Central to serve on a trial jury and was expected to take quite some time, asking him to continue his studies in his absence. He had left his pupil in charge, charging him with the task of watching over his daughter, Riza. Roy thought the old man must have been joking. His daughter was thirteen, she did not need a babysitter. She was the one who knew how to clean and cook and took care of the daily chores without prompting. If anyone needed looking after, it was him. He was bright, but impatient. Resourceful, but wreckless. He'd been hoping to find something in these tomes about the secrets of flame alchemy his teacher refused to let him learn. _It must be in one of these books, he has this huge library, the knowledge is somewhere._

"Has my father left for Central yet?" a voice behind him make him jump out of his seat. He never even heard the library door's hinges creak. He swore, she did this on purpose. She had a slight shy smile on her lips. He had a feeling that she enjoyed sneaking up on him in the old house.

"Riza, damn," he breathed, "You've got to stop doing that. Yeah, he caught the train this morning. Depending on how long the trial goes it could be a while."

"Oh," she looked toward the floor, "I need to go out for a little while, I need to go to the pharmacy. I'll be back in a few hours." She started to walk out but he caught her arm.

"Hey, hang on," he stood between her in the door, "The pharmacy is 3 miles each way and it's hot out. What do you need?" It wasn't that hot out, and he knew Riza walked nearly that distance to and from school each day. But he knew that money was a scarce resource in the Hawkeye household, and he didn't want her to have to spend what little she had if he could help it. And her needing to go to the pharmacy had him a little concerned.

"It's personal," she told him, trying to avoid his gaze as she walked around him.

"I promised your dad that I could take care of you," he mentally cursed himself. She called her late mother mom, but her father was never dad.

She moved to sit on the couch in the living room, but then stopped herself. She sighed in defeat, knowing she couldn't avoid the subject until her father returned, "I've started bleeding."

"What?" he ran to retrieve the first aid kit from the kitchen.

"Not that kind." she told him, "It's...it's a female problem."

"You got your first period?" he asked.

She stared at him, slightly surprised by the bluntness, but more shocked that a boy his age had any idea what that was. "Um, yes."

"I grew up with sisters, Riza," he assured her, "I know what it is. I won't go as far as to say I understand, because I don't really think I do, but I know what it means."

Riza had to admit she hadn't expected this. She didn't really want to talk to her father about this either, but at least Roy was understanding. He didn't laugh or act disgusted like she feared he would. She'd heard horror stories from other girls at school when their brothers or male friends found their supplies and ridiculed them for it. Roy was sixteen, three years older than her, but his maturity level sometimes changed day to day. On days like today he was serious and mature, but other days he would drive her insane with his immaturity.

"Look, I know you probably don't want me to know any of this. But I really do want to help. I can go to the pharmacy for you and get you what you need."

She paused, eying him skeptically before handing him a few wadded up notes, "This should cover it-"

"No, I can't take your money, Riza." he insisted. "I'm supposed to take care of you, remember? Just, let me be a gentleman for once?"

She shook her head, "For once? I suppose I should enjoy it while it lasts."

* * *

"Hi," Roy stammered, suddenly aware that he wasn't the only one in the pharmacy when he heard some school-aged boys giggling a few aisles over. "I...I need to buy some pads. They're for a friend." Before the words even finished leaving his mouth, he realized how ridiculously stupid that sounded.

The old woman behind the counter smiled softly at him, "Well I would hope so!" she chuckled. "Is it your friend's first time? Nevermind them, they'll be the ones who won't understand why girls won't talk to them in a few years!" The boys had quit paying attention once the shock value had worn off.

"Yeah," he nodded, looking at the various packages behind the counter, not knowing exactly what he needed. He never felt the need to ask his sisters about that kind of detail. If he had, he may not have lived to tell the tale. Everything was overwhelmingly and alarmingly pink. Even if it was exactly what she needed, Riza may take issue with the obnoxious nature of the packaging. "I, I don't know what kind she wants."

"Not to worry," she began pulling items off the shelves, revealing some open boxes. She took a paper bag and started putting a couple of each item in the bag, "This aught to be a good start. Every girl is a bit different, she'll figure out what works best for her. Is there anything else you need."

He handed the shopkeeper some money, "Thank you. And yeah, there's a couple other things."

* * *

When he returned to the house, he found Riza laying curled up in a ball in the center of her bed. He first thought she was sleeping but he knew better. He sat down on the edge of her bed, holding out a paper bag, "I got you a few things. The pharmacist gave you a little of everything they had."

She opened her eyes and offered a soft smile of thanks. She looked shocked as she looked through the bag, "Roy, this...this is really too much, you shouldn't have." She wanted to blame the tears threatening to fall on her hormones, but it was overwhelming how much he seemed to care about her. The bag was full of supplies as well as pain medicine, a hot water bottle, and some chocolates.

"It's good to have on hand," he insisted, "it should last you a little while. I don't want you to ever have to worry about not having what you need." He meant it. It broke his heart knowing how hard life had already been for her at such a young age. Roy had lost his parents young, but his aunt had taken him in, and she was a wonderful foster mother who made sure he was able to pursue his dream of becoming an alchemist. He wanted nothing to stand in the way of Riza's dreams either. She was ambitious enough, he knew great things lay ahead for her some day.

"I don't know what to say. Thank you." she gave him an unexpected hug. He paused for a moment before wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"What's that?" she asked, gesturing to the plastic sack on the floor.

"Oh," he pulled out some take out containers, "I figured you wouldn't feel like cooking anything for dinner. And if I have to cook for us, we'll both starve. So I got take-out." He was exaggerating slightly. Since coming to live with the Hawkeyes, Riza had taught him how to cook some basic meals. He knew she didn't eat out often, it was a special treat.

"You're going to starve some day if you don't learn to cook," she teased, "I won't be around to cook for you forever." She told him, a hint of sadness in her voice. She'd had enough people leave her life already. She knew he was planning on leaving for the military after his training was complete. It would just be her and her father in the house again.

"Hey," he tilted her chin up to look at him, "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."


	2. I Won't Lose You Too

Roy catches the same illness that took Riza's mother from her.

* * *

Roy was sick. He hated being sick. He blamed it on the house, full of dust, mold, and other unpleasant things constantly assaulting his immune system. He'd only been here a few days and already he wished he would have stayed in Central. His teacher was a stern, stoic man, and his daughter was like a ghost, drifting through the old house unseen and unheard. For a house with children it was a very lifeless place. He heard from a neighbor it wasn't always like that. An illness had swept through the tiny town a few months earlier, taking with it many of the town's children. It also took the life of the woman who used to live there, Johanna Hawkeye.

A pair of big auburn eyes peered around the corner, into the study, "Are you alright? You've been coughing all morning."

Riza was a tiny thing. Twelve years old but her short hair and thin build made her look much younger. She was always wearing baggy sweaters, far too big for her frame, to keep the chill of the old house at bay.

"Oh, hi," he smiled, surprised to hear her concern, "I think it's just my lungs getting used to the air out here." Even though they both knew the house was in sorry shape, he didn't want to insult his hosts. A coughing fit had him doubled over. He felt like his throat just couldn't clear.

"Open your mouth, let me see," she ordered, standing on her tiptoes.

"What? No!" He clasped his hand over his mouth. _God, you're a nosey one, aren't you?_

"A lot of people got sick in this town a few months ago," she told him, trying to see inside his covered mouth through the spaces in his fingers, "It killed my mom."

Roy lowered his hand, feeling sorry for the girl. He knew that her mother had died recently. It must have been very difficult for her. He had very little memory of his birth parents. Sometimes he wished he did but it made the pain of losing them less in a way. "I'm sorry. Your father told me she passed away a few months ago. I didn't know how she died though."

She nodded, sitting up on his desk, slipping off her shoes as she dangled her long legs, "It happened fast, I was there with her when she died. Dad went into town to fetch a doctor but by the time he came back, she was gone."

"If it will make you feel better, you can look at my throat. What are you looking for anyway?" he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. He didn't like the look on her face, "What is it?"

She bolted up off her perch on his desk and ran for the door, not even bothering to slip on her shoes. She slid on the hardwood floor, skipping down the steps two at a time. Suddenly worried, Roy walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, in his reflection he saw gray, leathery patches on the back of his throat. _What the hell? Is that why I've been coughing?_

* * *

Riza stopped in the kitchen, seeing her father there chopping vegetables for tonight's dinner, "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he asked, never bothering to look up from his work.

"It's Roy, he's sick," she panted, collecting her coat and purse from hooks near the back door, "I think it's the same thing that mom had."

The man froze. "He didn't get the vaccination when he was in Central?" After the epidemic tore through the surrounding small towns, school children were vaccinated in droves to stop the spread. As much contempt as Berthold Hawkeye had for the military, they had done an efficient job of vaccinating the masses and maintaining order as local governments collapsed under the weight of the dead.

"I don't know," she stuttered frantically, "Maybe he did and it didn't work."

"Where are you going?" He put a hand on her shoulder but she quickly brushed it off, "It's Sunday, there aren't any doctors who take patients on Sundays except at the hospital. I've got hot soup on the range started, if he's not better by morning we can fetch a doctor then."

She wanted to believe him. She really did. "While you were going to fetch a doctor for mom, her heart stopped. She went so fast." She was starting to cry, her balls curled up into tight fists, "I don't want to watch anyone else die."

"I suppose there's no stopping you if you've already made up your mind," he sighed, "Just put on some shoes, please?" He shook his head. She was definitely her mother's daughter. She had the same free spirit and determination. A gentle soul with fierce resolve. He sometimes regretted adding his own pigheadded stubbornness to her genes. _Oh, Johanna, thank God we only had one child. I don't think the world could have handled another._

* * *

She pounded loudly on the old farmhouse door. She could hear voices from inside, but there was no answer. She knocked again and the voices stopped, but no one came to the door. Rolling her eyes she tried once more, "Please, I know you're in there! I know it's a Sunday but please I need help!" Riza didn't believe in the sanctity to the first day of the week, nor the god it was supposed to honor. After her mother died, she told her father that if there was a god, he would have to beg her to forgive him. He strongly advised his daughter to keep her beliefs to herself.

A woman finally answered the door, surprised to see a child on her doorstep, "Can I help you?"

"Doctor Norman," she panted, "He lives here right?"

Surprised, the woman looked over her shoulder back into the house, "Reginald? It's for you."

A man stepped out onto the porch, "I recognize you," he sighed, "You're Johanna's girl, aren't you?" He remembered walking into the old house to find the girl clinging to her dead mother, pleading to whatever power might hear her that it wasn't too late. It had been. The infection had gone to the young woman's heart, taking her life far too soon.

"Please, my friend is sick. I think he has the same thing mom had, he has this grey...I don't know what it is," she admitted, "on his throat. His neck is swollen and he's been coughing for days. I don't know if he got the shot or not."

The doctor's wife offered Riza a glass of water. She gulped it down so quickly she began to cough and sputter, "Hey, slow down," the woman soothed, "Let's stick to one patient, not two?"

"You got the shot, right?" the doctor confirmed.

"Yes," she remembered the pain of the shots all too well, "Is it too late for him to get it?"

"A shot won't do him any good if he's already sick, but antibiotics and antitoxin will," the doctor grabbed his coat and keys from his wife, "We'll have to stop by the clinic to get those, come along, I'll drive you."

"Thank you," she breathed, following close behind.

* * *

Riza ran in the front door and up the steps, finding Roy in his bedroom sleeping. He was snoring away with his mouth wide open. She had to cover her nose, the smell was so potent. But snoring meant he was still alive. "Wake up! I've found a doctor! You're going to be okay."

"Huh?" he woke from his sleep, looking around the room, "Why do I need a doctor?"

She reached up and felt his forehead, burning hot. "Because you're sick. You need medicine."

The doctor finally caught up, setting his bag on the nightstand, "Either you're too fast or I'm getting old." he extended his hand to Roy, "I'm Doctor Reginald Norman, and this young lady insisted that I make a housecall."

"Nice to-" another coughing fit cut Roy off. The cough was sounding worse. The barking cough had left his throat feeling raw and swollen. Each breath was becoming more painful, but his breaths had started to get faster and faster.

"Looks like diptheria to me," the doctor told him, taking a look at the back of Roy's throat, "Not to worry, it's treatable with just a couple pokes." He pulled out some syringes and vials from the bag.

"Couldn't you have just let me die?" Roy cringed at the sight of the large needles.

"No, Mister Mustang." she told him bluntly.

Roy rolled up his sleeve to prepare for the shot, but the doctor cleared his throat, "I'm afraid that won't work for these drugs. They'll need to go into a larger muscle, like the one on your backside."

Riza blushed deep red and ran out of the room. She claimed to have no interest in boys, but Roy had started to notice her noticing him. It was a refreshing break from the girls in Central who teased him for his foreign appearance.

The doctor chuckled, "Never figured her to be a shy one. Maybe she's just being polite." A few quick jabs and he was finished. "Drink lots of fluids, you need lots of rest. I'm leaving my number here in case anything changes. But it should clear up in a few days. You're in good hands though."

"Is there any chance I could get her or her father sick?" Roy worried.

"Not likely," the doctor told him, packing away his supplies. "They were both given their shots after we confirmed that was what her mother had this past winter. They'll both get antibiotics as a precaution though. I advise that you stay here under quarantine for two weeks though to prevent anyone else from catching it."

Roy was relieved. He would have felt horrible if Riza had to endure this. It was bad enough for him but he imagined the memories it brought back for her were worse than any disease of the body. He caught a glimpse of her peeking back in to see if he was decent. He wondered if she would have looked away if he weren't.

"I'm leaving you in capable hands," the doctor told him as he left, patting Riza on the shoulder.


	3. Huntress

Roy learns not to complain about his situation, at least not to Riza.

* * *

"This is torture, I think it's part of my training to toughen me up, to make sure I'm ready for the really difficult challenges." Roy whined into the phone. "I've lost weight! My Master drags me out of bed at the crack of dawn!"

Riza eavesdropped on Roy's conversation back home. He didn't talk much about his life back in the city, but she always wondered what it was like. It was a little disheartening to hear him complain about his stay though. She crouched down on the staircase landing out of sight. Her bare feet made no sound on the old wood that loved to creak and moan under the slightest pressure. She wondered who he was on the line with.

"Vanessa, you've got to send me some money or some food, something!"

 _Who was Vanessa? He never talks about her._

"It's bread and water, like they feed prisoners!" he sounded desperate, pleading. "There's no fruits or vegetables, no meat, just potatoes, rice, and bread! I need some protein! I'm going to crack at this rate! Equivalent exchange says I'll get something good for all I'm putting up with but I have to survive that long first!" Vanessa must have hung up, seeing as Roy was now staring at the phone receiver blankly. Frustrated, he slammed it down.

Riza sat in silence, her own stomach growling. She silently cursed her body, giving away her eavesdropping. He turned to face her in surprise. "Oh, it's you. What are you doing here?"

"Nothing," she lied, "Was that your family you were talking to?"

"My sister, Vanessa." he told her. "She's a brat, always has been. My aunt spoils her rotten." That wasn't entirely fair, but Roy wasn't in the mood to be fair.

"I see."

He looked at her guiltily, "So, how much did you hear?"

"That we're feeding you like a prisoner."

"Riza I-"

"No, you're right. You're probably not getting enough. But neither are we. We eat the same meals, idiot," she scolded, "My father and I don't have secret feasts while you're in bed. If anything it's harder now stretching everything three ways instead of two." She was a little bitter over what he'd said, but she couldn't refute it either. Despite having another mouth to feed, she did her best to make sure that no one went to bed hungry. On days when someone did have to go hungry, it wouldn't be their guest.

He looked down, not willing to meet her accusing stare. He had not considered that. Both Riza and her father were slender, but he never thought much of it. She was younger than him, still growing. Despite her responsibilities and initiative, she was still barely more than a child. A growing girl needed real food. But he never heard a complaint from her even once. Somehow, she made do with what little they had.

"We don't eat much meat because what we do have is poached," she told him, "I have to be careful with how I do it or I could get caught." She kept her voice low, not wanting to announce it too loudly.

"Poached?"

"Killed in the off season. It's illegal."

"I know what it means, but why?" He'd only heard of people poaching for sport, for rare animal hides like the tigers of the east or the monster bears in the Briggs mountains.

"Because we can't afford meat," she shrugged, "Bullets are cheap, and I cover my tracks well. No one notices a turkey or deer going missing every now and then. Beef is 800 cenz a pound, chicken is 600. A bullet is about 50 cenz and a deer can give me 100 pounds of meat."

Roy stared in shock. This girl would wander out into the woods to hunt to feed her family, risking fines or imprisonment if caught, killed if she ran into the wrong sort of beast. He tried to picture her hauling a large animal like a deer home by herself, butchering it for meat. This girl was something else.

"Does your father know about this?" he asked sheepishly.

"No. In his mind he thinks meat is still 200 cenz a pound. You can barely buy flour or rice for that anymore. He sends me with money to go to the market, but it's never enough to cover everything. I'm pretty sure the taxidermist down the road, Mr. Bates knows. I sell him the hides and bone for extra money. Nothing goes to waste. You can't tell my father he'd be furious." Inflation had hit the country hard in the past few months. It was worse in the smaller towns that had to import most of their supplies from the bigger cities. Or so Roy had heard. He'd never really thought about the cost of food because he was never the one needing to buy it. He wondered just how desperate she must have been to venture into the forest alone for the first time.

"How could he not know?" he asked incredulously, "His daughter just disappears into the woods with a rifle and comes back with a carcass and he doesn't notice?"

"In case you haven't realized by now, my father doesn't pay much attention to anything I do."

He sat down beside her on the steps. To say he felt like an asshole was an understatement. For the past few months he'd lived with them, he'd taken so much for granted. Every night she would cook for them all, laboring away in the kitchen while he studied, and he never knew the effort that went into it. "One more question. Assuming you already had the rifle, got knows where you got it, how does a thirteen year old buy bullets? Isn't that a little suspicious?" The law in Amestris was that you had to be sixteen to buy bullets, eighteen to but a firearm.

She smiled, "Alchemists have tried for centuries to turn lead into gold. Is it so hard to believe that lead can be reused and remade into bullets?"

"You? You can use alchemy?" This girl was something else. He supposed it shouldn't be too surprising, the daughter of the great Flame Alchemist. _Is she better at it than me? Does she know how to use her father's techniques?_

"Is it that surprising?" she asked, "My father doesn't know that either, so keep your mouth shut. I borrowed some of his books and taught myself the basics." Roy made a zipping motion across his lips with his fingers. The last thing he wanted was to betray her trust after all she had told him.

"I could go hunting with you some time if you'd like," he offered, "You really shouldn't go out in the woods by yourself, it's not safe for a young lady."

"Oh really?" she smirked, "I've never missed a shot. I don't think I'm in too much danger. Besides, you can't even get up to pee in the middle of the night without making noise. You'll chase away everything in the forest. By the way, you might want to drink less water at night."

"I suppose you taught yourself to shoot, too?" he guessed.

"No, my mother taught me." she smiled.


	4. Winter is Coming

Winter is coming and Roy reflects on the facts of life with Riza.

* * *

The sun was hanging low in the sky, although it was not even dinner time yet. Fall had come swiftly, bringing with it shorter days and cool crisp air. As per his host's request, Roy had been helping chop firewood for the coming winter, bringing it down to the basement of the old house to keep it dry so the woodstove would keep burning during the cold months. Riza would venture out into the woods to collect the wood and he would split it for better burning. It was more exhausting than he'd thought it would be when he began, but he was thankful for the workout, as the physical effort helped keep him warm. Just as he finished his current stack, Riza returned with yet another armful of wood.

"You're killing me," he groaned, panting from the effort, his shoulders aching from swinging the weight of the ax, "How much more?"

She looked at his pile and began counting on her fingers, "We have enough for about two weeks." she decided, "Three at most if it stays warm like it did last fall."

He stared at the pile, a massive heap that had taken him all afternoon to split, "You're kidding."

"Nope," she shook her head, "Fire needs fuel. If you want to learn flame alchemy, you should learn what a fire needs to stay strong. Perhaps that's why he asked you to do this?" She had to admit, she did enjoy watching him work. He was building up a strong upper body with toned muscles and the sweat from the effort made his shirt cling to him tightly. But she couldn't let herself think of him that way.

"It's because the old man is getting feeble and doesn't want to swing an ax." he complained, regretting his words almost instantly. He knew his Master was getting weaker and more weary. Even though the man was only in his forties, he looked far older. He wondered how many more winters the man could endure. Riza had noticed too, he was sure. And although he was the only parent she had left, she probably didn't want to think about being an orphan at fifteen. "Riza, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"No, you did." she never let him get away with trying to change his intentions. Roy was many things, but he was always honest. He meant what he said and he said what he meant. He only regretted the impact of his words, not the words themselves. "Father can't do much anymore. He just works on his alchemy, trying to perfect his flames. But life goes on. The trees drop their leaves, the days get shorter, everything that's green dies. And so will he some day. Life goes on. But isn't that like alchemy? The only way to create something new is for what came before to give something in return. Everything that is dying in these woods will nourish the new life that comes with spring."

Roy nodded. Although she didn't know much about alchemy, growing up in her father's house she was raised in its culture with an appreciation for the cyclical nature of life. Some would consider it morbid. She considered it realistic. He knew of few people who had as much respect for life as she did. She embraced what little she had, gave thanks for the lives she took in the forest to feed them, growing strong despite the odds against her. Her father encouraged her to go to school, but that was about it. He rarely spoke to her anymore except for telling her to prepare meals. Roy had no idea how she managed. He had seen her grades from school, she was at the top of her class, a brilliant girl. Yet she had little time to study since she took care of the home while her father worked on his alchemy.

"I'll take this pile down to the basement," Roy told her, "Would you like help with dinner?"

She smiled in thanks, "No, dinner will be ready in an hour. It's simmering on the stove. It's rabbit, it takes a while to stew or it gets tough." she gathered a pile of wood in her arms, careful not to snag it on her sweater, and followed him down to the basement. "Will you be staying with us for the winter holidays or will you go to visit with your aunt?"

"I'll be staying here," Roy told her, "My sisters are off at boarding school, so I wouldn't see them anyway. Last time I went to visit my Aunt Chris, she gave me the sex talk for like an hour. I thought it would never end."

* * *

" _Now, if she's a virgin, realize that not all of them will bleed, not all of them hurt their first time. If you go in expecting it to happen, you're setting yourself up to hurt her. If you assume it will hurt you have no reason to try to keep it from happening and that just isn't right. Lubricant isn't just for old women like me, keep some handy, keep it with your condoms. If she's good and ready it won't hurt much if at all, and if there's no blood she could still be a virgin so don't go jumping to conclusions!" The woman carried on as casually as if she were talking about the weather._

 _Roy sank deeply into the couch cushions, wanting the ugly floral sofa to absorb him completely into another realm of existence so he could disappear to anywhere but this time and place. He could hear his sisters behind the couch eavesdropping and giggling. "Oh God...Kill me."_

" _Don't rely on pulling out. If she tells you 'just for a minute' remember that some boys in the heat of passion couldn't last a minute if they tried! And before you know it you've got a little rugrat running around."_

* * *

"An hour?" Riza laughed, "My father explained it to me in five minutes. I guess for women it's easier. You lie down, spread your legs, and if he finishes inside you, you can get pregnant. There's not much to it."

Roy dropped his pile, "That's what he told you?!"

"Yes?" she told him, not seeing the problem. "That and about my period, but I already knew that part."

"Nothing about orgasms? Positions? Your first time? Protection?" he couldn't believe it. He knew Riza was still a virgin but how could she not have been told this kind of stuff? "You think you just lay on your back and get screwed? Not that there's anything wrong with that, but there's so much more to it than that, Riza! No foreplay, no orgasms, just...be a catcher's mitt?"

"Women don't have orgasms, men do." she corrected, not knowing any better than what her father and the other girls at school had told her.

"Wow, you need to talk to my aunt," Roy told her, feeling woefully sorry for the girl. As awkward as it had been to hear her tell him about sex, he was thankful for it. From what he'd heard from his classmates, most boys didn't even know which hole was which. For a moment he considered teaching her himself. But then he thought better of it. Teaching a beautiful young girl about sex? He could already feel the blood rushing south. Instead, he ran back up the stairs and found a notepad on the kitchen counter. He quickly scribbled his aunt's phone number on it, tore out the page, and handed it to Riza, "Here. This is my aunt's number. I know it might be awkward, but she'll tell you a lot more than your dad knows."

She pushed it away, handing it back to him, "I don't think I need it."

"I wouldn't ask my aunt about alchemy, you shouldn't ask your dad about sex." All things had their place. And Berthold Hawkeye clearly was not well equipped to teach his daughter much of anything about sexuality.

She thought about it for a moment and started to laugh, seeing his point. "Alright, I'll hang on to it."

* * *

AN: Sorry about the typos, I think I fixed them all!


	5. Hospitals and Housewives

Roy is left in charge during an emergency. Part 1 of 2.

* * *

Roy carefully climbed the bookcases, pulling off anything that caught his eye. His master was away in Dublith for a few days visiting an alchemist there, leaving him to study on his own. Although the man refused to teach him the secrets of flame alchemy, this was where the master did all of his research. He had thousands of books, some in foreign languages, some hundreds of years old. This was the one portion of the house where no expense was spared. Roy grabbed anything that looked promising. _Rearranging the Elements, Foundations of Heat and Energy, Energy and Matter._

When the phone rang, Roy lost his balance, falling from his perch on the fourth shelf. Groaning, he made his way to the phone, "Hawkeye residence," he answered, rubbing his sore backside.

" _Hello, I'm calling for Berthold Hawkeye."_

"I'm afraid he's not here. He's out of town for a few days. Would you like me to take a message?"

" _I see,"_ the woman on the other end of the line sounded troubled _"This is Riza's teacher, Mrs. Rickman."_

"Oh no," Roy groaned. What sort of trouble had Riza gotten herself into this time? School never changed much, and there were always bullies. But few of those bullies ever expected their victims to fight back the way Riza did. This wasn't the first call her teachers had made home, and she still had two more years of school to go. "Who did she punch?"

" _It's nothing like that!"_ Mrs. Rickman assured him, " _I'm afraid Riza fell ill this morning. She said it was nothing but by lunchtime she could barely sit up at her desk. I sent her to the school nurse and they called for an ambulance to take her to the hospital."_

Roy nearly dropped the receiver. He knew this morning something was off. She said she wasn't hungry and refused to eat breakfast. It wasn't so unusual. She often skipped meals, but something was off. She seemed tense. He had assumed it was because of the argument she had with her father before his trip over his decision to leave Roy in charge rather than her.

" _Hello? Are you still there?"_

Roy found his voice, "Yes ma'am, I'll let her father know what has happened and head to the hospital to see how she is doing. Thank you for calling." He hung up quickly and ran to grab his shoes.

* * *

Roy stashed his bike along the back wall of the hospital and ran as quickly as his tired legs would carry him inside. He skidded to a stop at the front desk, panting to catch his breath, "I'm looking for Riza Hawkeye, and ambulance brought her here this afternoon."

A nurse came up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Breathe," she encouraged, "There's no need to have two people hospitalized." She pulled out a chair at the desk and made him sit.

Roy nodded, knowing she was right. His lungs screamed for air from the ten mile ride. The secretary behind the counter pulled up his friend's chart, "Are you family?"

"No, but I live with her family. My name is Roy Mustang. She's my best friend, we're like siblings almost." It wasn't exactly true. He was sure that siblings weren't supposed to feel the way he felt about her.

The woman raised her eyebrow at him, looking to the nurse for how to proceed.

"It's alright," the nurse assured her, "She's one of my patients. I'll take the heat on this one. Your friend is here, but she's in surgery right now." she put her hand on his, preparing for his reaction, "Her appendix ruptured and she needed emergency surgery. It's a common procedure but a ruptured appendix is quite serious."

Roy found himself shaking in his seat. "Surgery? I didn't know it was that serious. Is she going to be okay?" He started to feel sick at the mental image of someone cutting her open.

"We'll know a little more once she's out of the operating room. She'll be unconscious though once she gets out. It will take a little while for her to wake up, but you'll be able to visit with her."

He nodded in understanding, "God, she must have been terrified. And in pain."

"I gave her morphine when she got here. Appendicitis is very painful but she shouldn't be hurting now. We knew right away she would need surgery and she was pretty brave about it. Tougher than most of the adults we get in here." The nurse led Roy down the hallway to a waiting room just outside the operating room, "She should be out pretty soon. Wait here and I will come find you when you can go see her in her room."

"Thank you." Roy sat down, trying to process everything. Just a few feet down the hall, Riza was laying on an operating room table, while the hospital staff worked to try to save her life. He fished out a slip of paper from his pocket. Master Hawkeye had given it to him in case he needed to reach him. If this didn't count as an emergency, he didn't know what did. He found a line of payphones along the back wall and began to dial the number.

" _Curtis Butcher Shop."_ A rough voice answered.

"Um, sorry. It appears I have the wrong number." he stammered, quickly hanging up the phone.

* * *

Roy hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until the nurse from before gently shook him awake. "Roy? Would you like to go see your friend?"

He bolted upright, looking at the clock across the hall. He'd only been asleep about a half hour., but he still felt bad for dozing off. What if something had happened to her while he was sleeping? "Yes, please."

At the very end of the hallway past the double doors was a row of beds with thin curtains separating them. Most were empty, save for the last one by the window. In her deep, drugged sleep, Riza looked peaceful. An IV slowly dripped into her hand, the only part of her body visible besides her head. The rest of her was covered in soft thick blankets. Maybe it was the hospital lighting, but she looked paler than usual. He carefully picked up her hand, fiddling with the bracelet wrapped around her wrist, "How long will she have to stay here?"

"Here? For a few hours or so until she's okay to move to her own room. In the hospital? Probably a few days." the nurse brought a chair over so he could stay at her bedside, "Since her appendix ruptured before it could be removed, she's at high risk of infection. So she'll be needing antibiotics and close monitoring. We'll also keep her pain under control. Do you know how we might reach her father so we can let him know how she's doing?"

Roy shook his head, "I already tried. The number he gave me is wrong, it put me through to a butcher's shop." _I can't imagine he would care anyway._

"I see. Visiting hours are nearly up but it's more of a guideline than a rule," the nurse smiled, "She's lucky to have someone here with her."

Roy thanked the nurse as she walked away. He sat with Riza for a few moments before leaving her side to try the number again. If something were to happen, he wanted to have at least tried to get ahold of him. The phone rang for a long time before a woman answered.

" _Hello?"_

"Oh, hi," Roy was pleasantly surprised to hear a different voice this time, "I'm calling for Berthold Hawkeye, he left me this number to reach him while he is out of town. Is he there?"

" _He is,"_ the woman confirmed _, "However he's not well I'm afraid. The trip took its toll on him. Would you like me to take a message for him?"_

Roy was fuming. The old man was unwell? His daughter just had surgery, but Master Hawkeye was tired from a train ride. "Tell him that his daughter is in the hospital. She just had surgery and almost died. She can go home in a few days." He didn't try to hide the venom in his voice, muttering through clenched teeth.

" _Oh my,"_ The woman sighed, " _I'll let him know. Is it alright if I call back to see how Riza is doing in a little while?"_ The woman seemed genuinely concerned.

"Um, sure." Roy told her. "Who are you exactly?"

" _Just a housewife_ ," she told him.


	6. Home for the Holidays

Roy paid the fare for their cab as at long last, they reached the cozy little bar in Central. It was nearly Christmas and he was able to get some time away before going back to the academy. With that time, he decided to take Riza home to see the city and meet his family. He couldn't help but grin as he saw her look of awe when their train pulled into the city, all decorated with lights for the holidays.

Riza reached to pull their bags out of the back of the cab, but was quickly stopped, "Here, let me. You're on vacation, remember?"

She shook her head, "If you insist. Although when you go to the academy, they're going to put you to work. You may as well enjoy what time off you have." She raised her hand to the bar door, but hesitated for a moment. Roy had told her all about his family. His foster mother, his sisters. What had he told them about her?

"Don't worry, my family is going to love you," Roy promised, opening the door to the bar. Immediately they were ambushed by two young women.

"Roy!" one kissed his cheek, "You're finally here!"

"We were waiting!" the other grinned, hugging Riza, "Nice to finally meet you!"

"Um," Riza stiffened in the woman's arms, "Hi?"

"Awww, she's shy!" the girl dragged the young woman up to the bar and found her and Roy seats.

"Everyone is shy compared to you, Vanessa," Roy chuckled, "Vanessa, Jessica, this is Riza. Riza, these are my sisters."

"Oh." Sisters. Riza blushed a little. Judging by the welcome they gave she wouldn't have guessed a familial relationship. "Nice to meet you both."

The woman behind the bar set out some mugs in front of them, "How old are you, sweetheart?"

"Seventeen?" Riza looked down at her drink. Given that this was a bar, there was a pretty high chance that the steaming mug contained some alcohol.

"Old enough," Madame shrugged, "Roy, I'll start a tab, you can pay it off by doing some dishes for me."

Roy nodded in agreement, "Sure." It was well worth a few hours of work to have a hot drink to take off the chill. The hot cider she made was to die for.

"So tell us what it's like out in the country!" Vanessa and Jessica perched on either side of Riza and began their interrogation.

* * *

"Can I freshen your drink?"

"Um…" Riza tried to politely decline the older man's offer but was interrupted by the woman behind the bar.

"Hey, she's half your age," Madame Christmas spritzed the man with the club soda sprayer.

"You want to lose business lady?" the man protested.

"If it's yours? Yes, get out." The woman watched to make sure he left, "We get guys like that every so often. They never stay for long. This is a pretty safe place, but because of that we get all sorts around here."

"I suppose that you can't be too discerning about who you allow in," Riza stated knowingly, "Having a reputation as a safe place is a strategic advantage."

"Has that boy been spilling secrets?" The older woman raised an eyebrow as she lit her cigarette.

"No," Riza looked out across the bar, "But your daughters seem very interested in the lines of work of some of these patrons. I don't think they're just making polite conversation." She'd been carefully observing the bar's patrons for the past hour. It was her first time at an establishment like this, so she wasn't quite sure what to expect, but she had a feeling most women weren't keen on finding out details about the military when they went out for drinks with men.

The older woman grinned, "Very observant. You ever consider that kind of work?"

"Honestly? Not really. It's not that I don't think I would be good at it, but I never considered it." She hadn't given much thought to what she wanted to do after she finished school yet, really.

"Let me know if you change your mind, you've got a sharp mind. That's good for this line of work."

* * *

"Riza seems nice," Vanessa said, bringing Roy a fresh stack of dishes, "You like her?"

"I don't know about that." Roy scrubbed at a stubborn spot on the glass, "Why do you ask?"

"You did bring her home for the holidays," she observed, "You've never done that before."

"She doesn't have anyone else. Her father just passed, her mother's gone, it seemed like the least I could do." He was a little worried about how she would handle her first Christmas alone. He knew a little of what that was like and wanted to be sure that she felt supported and loved, the way his family had taken him in after his parents passed away.

"Uh huh, and sharing a room with her has nothing to do with it?" They had extra rooms upstairs but Vanessa had been snooping and noticed Roy had brought her things up to his room.

"I think she'd kill me before she slept with me."

Vanessa shook her head, "The two aren't mutually exclusive. I've done both before."

"I know," Roy smiled, "Are you planning on taking on an apprentice? If so, give me a little warning first."

* * *

Jessica made her way around the bar, freshening up drinks and keeping tabs on the patrons. Over by the fireplace, she found Roy's friend chatting with some boy. She decided it was worth lingering a little.

"You aren't with anyone? That's too bad, no one should be alone on the holidays."

"I'm not alone, I'm just not dating anyone." She clarified. Honestly, people acted as though being single was the worst thing a person could be. Although this gentleman seemed to be determined to change that. He wasn't half bad looking, a bookish brunette studying at Central University. She didn't remember catching his name though.

"Well, here's to the holidays, may the new year bring something good!" he raised his glass to toast with her. As Riza raised hers, a hand reached to take it.

"Is something wrong?" she asked Jessica, who had stolen her drink.

Jessica eyed the blue glass carefully, "You didn't drink any of this did you?"

* * *

"Riza and I aren't like that," Roy insisted, as much as he wished they were. "And she's grieving still, it wouldn't be right." The night her father had died, he spent the night in her bed, holding her while she cried. When her tears dried and her sobs subsided, she found herself kissing him. As much as he wanted it, he stopped her, not wanting her to regret anything. He stayed all night spooned around her while she slept, remaining a gentleman despite the pain in his groin chastising him for being an idiot. Her heart and mind needed time to heal. She needed time to think about her future, even if that future didn't have a place for him in it.

"You don't feel anything for her?" Vanessa asked, peering out the window into the bar.

"I didn't say that."

"Well, you should probably know that someone gave her a blue glass."

Roy dropped the dishes in the sink, shattering them.

* * *

"What's the problem here?" the boy asked, "We were just talking."

"Talking, huh?" Jessica switched the glass for the one in the boy's hand, "If nothing is wrong, drink it."

The boy shook his head, "A backwashed cider? No thanks. I think I'll stick to my beer." He tried to hand the drink back to Riza, who refused to take it back. She blinked a few times trying to figure out what was going on. Why was her mind in a fog? She was sure the boy had told her his name, why couldn't she remember it?

"Funny," Roy said, picking up the two glasses, comparing the colors, "Any idea why her glass is a different color from yours?"

"I don't know," the boy shrugged, "They serve different drinks in different glasses. Ask the barkeep."

"Madame?" Roy called, "What do we use the blue glasses for?"

"We don't," she said, with the knowing smile.

"Jessica, take Riza upstairs," he handed her a key, "Get her into bed, lock the door. I'll be up shortly."

Riza rose to her feet, which were a little shaky underneath her, "What's going on?"

"I'll explain later, you're not feeling well, let's get you upstairs," Jessica promised, helping support Riza as she climbed the staircase. She looked back over her shoulder once she reached the landing, wishing she could stay to watch what was about to happen.

"None of those glasses are blue," Roy told him, dangerously calm, "I know because I made every one of those glasses myself using alchemy. They're clear until they come into contact with certain compounds. Compounds like the ones people use to prey on women. You leave the bar with a girl who looks tipsy, it looks like you're doing the chivalrous thing, making sure she gets home safe. Is that what they teach you at university?"

* * *

Jessica pulled off Riza's shoes and helped ease her into bed, "How are you feeling?"

"I…I don't know," she pressed her hand against her throbbing head, "What's going on?"

Jessica sighed, trying not to panic the girl, "You were drugged."

"What?" Riza tried to bolt up, but Jessica held her down gently, "What do you mean?"

"That boy put drugs in your drink."

"I don't understand, why would he do that?"

Jessica dug through Roy's desk, finding a bottle of medication, "Here, chew a couple of these. It will help your head. I don't think you drank very much of it, but you'll probably feel like hell in the morning." She grabbed the wastepaper basket from under the desk, setting it next to the bed, "You might need this too. Aim for the bin."

Riza curled up on her side under the blankets. Although this room was new to her, it felt familiar. She could recognize some of Roy's things on the desk, a set of alchemy books and scribbled notes. He bag of belongings was neatly set in the corner by the closet. He must have already brought them up for her.

Both girls jumped at the sound of a loud crash from downstairs. Jessica double checked the door, making sure that it was locked, "What was that?" Riza felt a sense of dread and tried to get out of bed to investigate. She knew Roy was protective, but he was also reckless, and that worried her.

"Roy has a bit of a temper," Jessica rubbed gentle circles on Riza's back, gently pushing her back down onto the bed, "You're safe up here, don't you worry. There's two sets of locked doors between you and the creeps downstairs. Sad thing is, you've got to be careful. Men like that don't care who they hurt. Never go drinking alone, keep an eye on your drink always."

"He seemed so nice," she whispered.

"It's not your fault," Jessica assured her firmly, "You're a trusting person, and there's nothing wrong with that. Most people are good. You just have to watch out for the sickos."

Riza flinched at the sound of pounding on the door. Jessica dropped to the floor to look through the crack beneath the door. Once she saw who was there, she unlocked it, "Hey, come on in."

Roy was a little disheveled, but he looked relieved to see Riza curled up in his bed, "Did she drink any of it?"

"A little," Jessica told him, keeping her voice soft, "Not much though. I think she'll be okay."

"Should we call for a doctor?" Roy asked worriedly.

Jessica shook her head, "I don't think so, she'll just need to sleep it off, get it out of her system."

Roy nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed, "Riza?"

"I'm okay," she told him, curled up tightly with his blankets, "Just feeling a little stupid."

"Oh?" he gently brushed the hair out of her face, "I find that hard to believe."

"I didn't notice. I was so stupid I-" he pressed a finger softly to her lips cutting her off.

"Riza," he soothed, "You'll always have people watching your back. God knows you watch mine enough. You can't control everything. I put my alchemy to use to protect my sisters. Tonight it helped keep you safe. That's why I'm going into the military. I want my alchemy to protect the people I love. To keep people safe. You're not alone."

She nodded in understanding. This was why she trusted Roy. This was why she showed him the array on her back without fear. He was a fool, young and stupid, but at his core was a good man. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, and when she opened them she saw Roy sleeping on the floor beside her, keeping watch over her while she slept. Somehow she had a feeling he'd be alright, wherever his new life in the military took him, because his heart was in the right place.


End file.
